


A Cold Autumn Wind

by anaraine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-29 06:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5118422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaraine/pseuds/anaraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is late October, and they are still rebuilding everything Voldemort destroyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cold Autumn Wind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [csichick_2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/csichick_2/gifts).



It is late October, and they are still rebuilding everything Voldemort destroyed. People are still picking themselves up from the wreckage, tearing up at portraits of the dead and clutching their loved ones close. Hermione almost can't stand to be at the Burrow, feeling the weight of Molly's grief. It is just so _heavy_ , where Hermione herself feels so disconnected. There are people she should be grieving for, she should be looking for her parents in Australia—but she can't. Not yet. She doesn't have the energy for it.

She barely has enough energy to attend Hogwarts, to be honest, but she is digging her heels in and pushing through the days as they come. She made the decision to finish her schooling properly, and she is going to stick with it. She is reclaiming something Voldemort would have stolen from her—and going back is spitting in his pale, dead face.

"You alright?" Ron asks, tugging gently on their clasped hands to get her attention.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," Hermione says absently, even though the answer makes Ron frown. "I'm not ready to talk about it," she amends, which is slightly more truthful. There are days when she thinks she might not ever be ready. Still, it eases Ron's frown. There are plenty of things he's not ready to talk about either, and they have tacitly agreed not to poke at each other's open wounds.

The wind picks up a bit and Hermione shivers, even though she's wearing a heavy cardigan. It's not one of her Weasley sweaters, unfortunately—the one that fit her best is ruined beyond what magic can repair, and she's not sure she can count on getting another for Christmas. Molly has yet to start even a single sweater. She spends her days worrying after her children, but Fred is an empty echo in the house that she can't seem to move past. Not that Hermione begrudges her the time she needs, but—

"I'm going to look for my parents during the Christmas hols," she announces, making the decision that second. She is wallowing too, when she needs to move _forward_. Even if she doesn't feel up to it at the moment. Maybe especially if she doesn't feel up to it.

"Alright," Ron swallows, hard. "I'm not sure if I can- I mean, work, and _mum_ —"

Hermione feels a flush of warmth, low in her heart - it might be silly, but she hadn't been expecting the offer. Even if it isn't an offer, not really. "Thank you," Hermione says, appreciating the sentiment. "But. I think this is something I need to do on my own." She knows that her parents won't be happy with her, but she also knows that she couldn't have fought as she did, knowing they would be targets. There were so many muggleborns and muggle parents that were killed... Even if she never finds them, she can live with that. At least they would be _alive_.

Now Ron looks uneasy. "Will you floo?"

"I- does the Floo Network even extend to Australia?" Hermione asks. She's fairly certain it doesn't, but would need to consult a book to make sure. "I'll owl," she promises, "And it isn't like I'll be spending the entire hols there." She can hope, anyways.

"I, yeah," Ron says, scrubbing at his hair with his free hand. He doesn't like the idea, she can tell, but neither is he going to tell her not to go. Hermione can understand. They've been in each other's pockets for so long —her, Ron and Harry— that it has been a hard adjustment with her at Hogwarts and the boys at the Ministry. At least the distance between them right now is nothing but a quick Apparition away. Australia is not as convenient.

"I'll be careful," she says, turning to him and cupping his cheek. She would offer to talk with him about it, but she doesn't want to be talked out of her plan. It would be too easy right now to change her mind, when she's uncertain and floundering.

"Yeah, okay," Ron says, breathing out as he bends, slightly, to touch his forehead to hers. "Please be careful," he says, softer, and Hermione nods.

They stand there, entwined, as the wind makes brightly colored leaves dance down the street and the skies threaten to rain.


End file.
